


Like a Chat in Heat

by kachie



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Confused Marinette, Fluff, Hormones, crazy cat boy, going into heat, happy marinette, headcanons, maybe a reveal, plagg being a secretive jerk, possible up to the ratings, smoochies!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:18:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7988140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kachie/pseuds/kachie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a reason he hadn't caught on to it before. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was puberty. Maybe it was simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or the right place at the right time. Either way, Adrien is screwed. Or at least he'll think so. But Plagg and you all know better. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Chat in Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Possibly just a drabble. . . but my brain did throw me the final scene so maybe I can eventually connect the two and call this a prologue instead!  
> -cross posted on my tumblr (kachiescrawls)

He was staring at her. Even from where she stood, a good six feet away, she could see how his pupils had dilated to almost fully capture the normally cool green of his eyes. That cool green had warmed, a barely discernible ring around the dark centers. His gaze was intense. Focused. Hot. And he was staring at her.

\---

It was mid May and spring had finally descended upon Paris with a vengeance. The breeze warm and inviting, birds failed to cease their songs for even a moment, and the temperature had skyrocketed as if to make up for the time missed due to a long winter. Marinette found herself wishing she had shed her grey blazer before coming to the front of the class. They had just fifteen minutes before the end of history and the start of the lunch break. Just enough time for Marinette to complete her verbal presentation on the history of the corset. Madame Bustier had opened the large windows to coax the breeze into their increasingly stifling classroom. Marinette lengthened her spine with a slight grimace as she felt a lone bead of sweat drop from her neck to meander its way down the curve of her back. Gross. 

Her presentation was, thankfully, memorized and her words detailing the material that made up the 16th and 17th century versions cut easily and cleanly through the hazy air despite the fuzz in her brain and the strong desire to let her eyelids fall shut. She began running her tired gaze over her classmates in an attempt to find something to keep alert. Her peers did not seem to be faring much better. Despite the enthralling topic, the other sixteen and seventeen year olds were just not having it. Okay, maybe it was just enthralling to her, but still. In the back row, Nathaniel could be seen laying his cheek flat against the table while his right hand halfheartedly drew what appeared to be a circle - around and around and around. Rose was looking at her with a sleepy smile, but her china blue eyes were almost vacant - looking through her rather than at her. What was formally Juleka was now a large mop of dark hair face down. Kim halfheartedly poked a semi dozing Alix with his stylus until she would finally get annoyed enough to swat at him. He would stop for about five seconds - just long enough for Alix to put her head down really - before following through once more with the poking. A brief glance at Chloe - even she was too out of it to bother giving Marinette one of her patented dirty looks. Alya was making a valiant effort to pay proper attention but was distracted by her chin’s unending quest to keep slipping from her palm. Nino was- was he blowing bubbles? And then there was Adrien.

Ah, Adrien. The winter had been kind to the teenager who held her heart in his unknowing grasp. A brief sabbatical from school for an extended stay in Milan had brought upon a growth spurt. While others in the class had been hit hard by the puberty stick, Adrien had returned transformed. Where had previously been a perfectly beautiful boy, there now sat an equally perfectly handsome young man. As he shot up in height, the width of his shoulders increased giving her the view of a broad expanse of chest that Marinette would give her right earring to lay her cheek upon. Kidding, Tikki. Well, mostly. He, wise unlike her, had removed his over shirt, draping it across the back of his chair. He sat with his elbows propped atop the table, the sleeves of his black tee shirt pulled taut against his biceps. Her gaze followed the lines of his arms, pausing briefly on the slight bulge of his forearms before continuing down to the large hands. Long, thin fingers entwined to form a bridge for his chin to rest upon. She could just imagine those strong, slim digits grasping her own. Those smooth palms sliding up her-wow was it getting even hotter in here? Where was she? Oh right, his chin. Adrien’s chin where just above was his mouth-

Suddenly, mercifully, a strong gust of sweet spring air burst into the open window scattering the papers detailing Marinette’s project off of Madame Bustier’s desk while simultaneously causing relieved sighs to echo throughout the room. Well, mostly sighs. There was one that began as a sigh but quickly cut off into a gasp.If Marinette had been paying attention, she might have noticed said gasp slip from the subject of her fascination from a moment ago. She may have observed the shine of surprise in those cool green eyes. She could have watched the dark centers slowly spread to engulf the warming irises. She definitely would have spied the slow bob of his adam's apple as he swallowed before beginning to breathe in quite deeply, his nostrils slightly flared. But Marinette was not paying attention and noticed none of these things. She was bent at the waist, swiftly gathering her notes before another errant wind would push them further from her grasp. By the time she straightened, hands jostling the sheets of paper into a neat pile, it was already too late. She had missed the signs. She was oblivious to what was happening, to what was about to happen. And when she finally looked up, before she could utter a word, Marinette was met with a stare that shot her heart to her throat and a searing heat right to her core. 

As to be expected in such scenarios, the neat pile in her hands promptly slipped right back to the floor.


End file.
